Deeper Blue
Deeper Blue is the fourth episode of the third season in the series 40: The Last Splixson and the twenty-fifth episode of the overall series. Plot When he finally emerged from the bowels of the Temple of Fates it was into a bright sunshine and a Chronia that teemed with life. But Fred had never felt so alone. Fred trembled violently. He could not help himself. Could it be real? Seconds earlier—though it seemed like one hundred years ago—he had been involved in astruggle with Grullo—the leader of an Anti-Fate Cult. But he had beaten him. Still his thoughts dwelled on his mystifying experience in the strange vault beneath the Temple of the Fates. The memory of what had just passed beneath the Temple of the Fates came back to him, great surges of recollection overwhelming his consciousness. There had been a vision, an encounter with a strange goddess—for there was no other way of describing the being—whom he now knew as Fate. She had shown him both the distant past and the far future in such a way as to make him loathe the responsibility that the knowledge he had gained had placed on his shoulders. And whom could he share it with? How could he explain any of it? It all seemed so unreal. All he knew for sure after his experience—better call it an ordeal—was that the fight was not yet over. Perhaps one day there would be a time when he could return to his homeplanet of Hathor and settle down with the Splixsons. But this was not it. Fred arrived at the G.P. Brisk II and still felt the grime of the journey upon his body. Marcus smiled slowly, mockingly. Marcus: Ah. He returns at last. Metarid: No doubt you're eager to tell us the story of your adventure. Fred sighed. Fred: There will be plenty of time for that later. A black mist swallows the G.P. Brisk II in a swirling cone of black vapour. It hung in the air– hazy shreds of white that coiled and undulated as if they were alive. The mist receded and, suddenly, a freestanding rectangle of darkness stood in plain view. Fred caught glimpses of movement from beyond the rectangle. From the way his friends’ eyes darted around, he guessed they were seeing things too. Black smoke billowed out of the mysterious rectangle, and a body spilled face-first onto the floor – a Citrakayah, limp as a corpse. In front of the mysterious-looking portal, the air darkened and solidified. The being who appeared was so massive, radiating such pure malevolence, that Fred wanted to crawl away and hide. Instead, he forced his eyes to trace the creature’s form, his flesh all thick muscle, purple and glistening. Somehow the Citrakayah found his voice. ‘Carnage.’ The creature, named Carnage, made a sound like a mountain cracking in half: a roar or a laugh, Fred couldn’t be sure. Carnage: I do not interfere lightly, little mortals. It is beneath me to deal with gnats such as yourself. We shall meet again. The Citrakayah stood swaying, a wounded, exhausted, blood-soaked figure. His once-blue and black fur was streaked with gore, most of it around his left arm, which looked badly wounded, dangling uselessly at his side and crusted with blackened, dried blood. As he moved into the room his injured shoulder dipped, and he hobbled slightly. But if his body was damaged, then his spirit was surely not: his eyes burned brightly with anger and hatred – hatred that he turned on Fred with a glare so intense that all Fred could do was shrink away. Shamefacedly, Fred stayed back while his friends rushed towards the Citrakayah. Willie: You’re hurt. Citrakayah: I still live, at least. His bloodshot eyes were brimming with fury as he stared at Fred. He took short, ragged breaths. His bared teeth were bloody. Citrakayah: I can’t say the same about my brother. For a beat his eyes dropped to the stone floor. Then, with a sudden burst of angry energy, he raised his head, narrowed his eyes and raised a trembling finger to point at Fred. Citrakayah: Because of you. My brother … my brother would still be alive. Fred: There was no way back. Nothing I could do – Fred’s excuses sounded feeble, even to his own ears – especially to his own ears. Fred had heard enough – and he didn’t like what he had heard. Citrakayah: After I heard he died, I went looking for a way to bring him back. I had no clue what to do at first. Apollo found me. He told me to seek out the Doors of Death. I would find Blank in Death’s Realm, he said. Carnage, a Demipower of the realm, made short work of me. Fred: This portal... will it lead to Death’s Realm? Citrakayah: Yes. And ... if you do find Blank, give him this. Blank's brother hands Fred the Omnigizer. As he jumped through the portal of the dead, he wondered whether being killed now might provide the escape he desired. Would that be a good death? He could see a black, murky river hurtling towards him. Fred had aliens that could control water – assuming that was water below them. He might be able to cushion his fall somehow. In mid-air, the Novatrix lets out a bright flash and transforms Fred into Orcatide. The water erupted in a massive geyser and swallowed him whole. He jolted back to reality, swam upward and broke the surface. He gasped, grateful for the air. He used the last of his strength to reach the riverbank. His fins dug into the sandy bottom. He hauled himself ashore, shivering and gasping, and collapsed on the dark sand. Orcatide reverts back to normal. From afar, Fred could see a body surrounded by a bubble shield falling to the river below, his impact with the river causes a small tidal wave. It blasts through the river and surges out of it on the shore where Fred lay exhausted. Fred thought he was in for a fight, but it was only Necropolix who had followed him here through the portal, most likely by the request of his friends. Fred: Necropolix, what are you doing here? Necropolix: If you're surprised I’m here, then the Last Splixson has lost a few steps. Fred’s eyes locked on something behind Necropolix. Necropolix spun as a massive dark shape hurtled down at him – a snarling, monstrous blob. The existence that was the absolute embodiment of “ugly” stood motionlessly in front of him. A chubby, rotund stomach filled with fat gave off an oily luster; on a neck that was combined with shoulders dangled skulls of small animals. With a protruding, flat nose, and a mouth with visible teeth, only its small, beady eyes flashed with a glimmer of intellect, making this even more disturbing. Necropolix: Famine... one of the Four Demipowers of this realm. Fred: You two know each other? Like Underworld chums, or – Famine’s voice was soft, but full of venom. Famine: Silence, fool. Even from thirty feet away, Necropolix could sense his life force waning, his pulse becoming thready. Famine was absorbing his life force. Fred transforms into AmpliFire. His hands blazed. He shot purple-hot columns of flame at the giant, but Famine’s smoky aura absorbed them on impact. Tendrils of black haze travelled back up the lines of fire, snuffing out the light and heat and covering AmpliFire in darkness. Famine: I would not. You do not understand, Fred Blake. I devour energy. I destroy the body, make it frail. You cannot oppose me. Necropolix: His powers aren’t different from an Osmosian’s; craving for energy. Necropolix morphs his arms into Talpaedan Jackhammers, rams them into the ground, and pumps the pistons on his elbows. The generated shockwave causes Famine to stagger backwards. Necropolix approaches him and grabs his face, squeezing it so tightly, blood splatters. Famine sneered in frustration. Famine: Let's see how well you fare against my full power. Famine begins powering up, a smoky shroud pouring over the floor, covering Necropolix and Fred in a pool of dark fog. The River of Healing receded from the riverbanks and Famine gradually grew in size until he stopped at a whopping fourteen meters. Famine's significant power gain had also leached a lot of life force from his opponents. Necropolix is swallowed whole by Famine, much to Fred's surprise and horror. Now in the Famine's stomach, he is surrounded by unusually skinny humanoids who have been subjected to Famine's power, one whispering she misses and wants her mother, before sinking into the stomach acid. Meanwhile, an enraged Fred transformed into Pawthorne. He pounces at the giant slob and sinks his teeth into his oily skin. Blood trickled from the wound. His disembodied voice bellowed with pain. Necropolix pierces the gut with his hand. Famine coughed blood and his eyes were wide with pain and surprise as Necropolix yanked his hand upward, bisecting his torso. His intestines spilling to the dust, Famine desperately tries to cover his wound while Necropolix emerges from his stomach. Necropolix and Pawthorne almost incapacitate Famine completely, to his complete dismay, refusing to believe that he could have sustained that much damage. Famine began to shrink back to his regular size, but, this time, unusually thin, with a skeletal build, parchment-like skin, and atrophied muscles. Famine chuckled weakly. Famine: Ah ... you think I act alone. I am but a piece. A man with a part to play. You'll come to know the others soon enough. They won't take kindly to what you've done. Necropolix: Good. I look forward to ending their lives as well. Famine: Such pride. It will destroy you. Blood swept down his gut, bubbles of it formed at the wound. He slid to his knees, his gaze fixed on Fred, unable to take his eyes from Famine as the blood poured from him, draining out of him. The stink of death was on his breath as he pulled Fred closer to him. Famine: You cannot stop us. He died, a thin trail of blood trickling from his mouth. Necropolix and Fred went upriver hoping it would lead them to Death. Then they arrived at the docks. There they would meet the boatman of the dead. He wore a long black robe. Where his eyes should've been were empty sockets, totally dark, full of night and death and despair. The air turned misty. They walked onto a wooden barge. Charon was poling them across a dark oily river, swirling with bones, and other strange things. Fred: The River Styx... Charon: Oh, so you've heard of it? Fred: I've been here before actually, but never went past you. Charon: Yeah, just don’t let Death know about that. The shoreline came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inwards. The bottom of the boat slid onto the black sand. The dead began to disembark. Charon: I'd wish you luck, but there isn't any down here. He took up his pole and ferried the empty barge back across the river. Fred and Necropolix followed the spirits up a well-worn path. Particles of light appeared without a sound, and condensed-- to produce a humanoid shape. The long garment in the shape of a robe. The wavy white hair flowing from the back to feet. The lady with elegance and transcendental beautiful face. But a word surged out of my mouth, and at the same time, Necropolix's, who had quickly turned around. 'Huge!' The height of the lady was, based on their estimations, more than three meters. Fortunately, the first words from the mysterious huge lady to them sounded like she didn't appear to be hurt by their words, her serene expression remained as she opened her lips. The flowing voice was tinged with a solemn effect. Silence: I am Silence. The skirt of her long white hair was like tapered, divided, and undulated tentacles. The limbs inside the robe that could be seen were covered by pearly scales. Silence: You never meant to become this, Necropolix. Had you overcome your pride, I would have been at your side a long time ago. Necropolix: Please do not judge us harshly. Silence: Fred, you have acted nobly, trying to prevent destruction even when it looked necessary. Though my Lord, Death, would have enjoyed more additions to his realm, or more deals to hold over the living, I am grateful you have worked to save that many lives. Fred: Silence, if I may? If you are a servant of Death, why preserve life? Silence: Not all those who serve Death relish that state of existence. Though I am the silence that follows the absence of life and a battle hard fought, I actually do relish the bond of the living. Fred: So you're not going to attack us? Silence: No. I would like to thank you nevertheless for dealing with Famine. I could feel my realm's pain, its befuddlement at the constant bombardment by the cries of famine and starvation. Fred: You're welcome. Silence: You, Fred, have far more wisdom than many give you credit for. May your battles be hard fought, and may the Silence that one day follows you to Death be one of nobility and joy. Silence melted into shiny water droplets and faded from the scene. They looked to their left and could see spirits marching down a rocky path towards the Fields of Punishment, which glowed and smoked in the distance, a vast, cracked wasteland with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire. Nevertheless, Fred trudged forward. Necropolix felt obliged to follow. If nothing else, this area was less dark - not exactly light, but with more of a soupy white fog. Eyes slowly adjusting, they edged forward, seeing crates and barrels and then ... a cage. He moved closer - and almost recoiled at what he saw. A man was inside it. A pathetic, shivering man, who sat with his legs pulled to his chest. The creature raised his head. His body was bad enough. He looked like a victim of famine - limbs like sticks, swollen knees and knobby elbows, rags for clothes, broken fingernails and toenails. His face was utter desolation. His eyes were sunken and rheumy. It was Demonstar. He still retained the scar on his abdomen. Necropolix couldn't stand to meet his eyes, so he lowered his gaze. Demonstar: I should count myself lucky. The new Osmosian Emperor has graced me with his presence in my lowly prison cell. Necropolix: Dying was the best thing you could have done for my life. It put me on the right path. Perhaps your eternal torture in here could do the same for you. Demonstar: Hmph. Suddenly, they heard an insistent, beseeching sound that made them want to cover their ears: " You should not have come here!" Fred swung in the direction of the noise, seeing the shadow shift above him. He tensed, crouching, his Novatrix ready, offering the smallest target possible. Fred crept forward, still trying to pace the demon lurking in the darkness. He was above, that much was certain. But where? Xhadam emerged from the darkness as a shadowy construct as first, then gradually took a more solid form. Xhadam: Did you think I'd remain ignorant of your presence? You were known to me the moment you entered this realm, such is my reach. They looked to their left and could see spirits marching down a rocky path towards the Fields of Punishment, which glowed and smoked in the distance, a vast, cracked wasteland with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire. Nevertheless, Fred trudged forward. Necropolix felt obliged to follow. If nothing else, this area was less dark - not exactly light, but with more of a soupy white fog. Eyes slowly adjusting, they edged forward, seeing crates and barrels and then ... a cage. He moved closer - and almost recoiled at what he saw. A man was inside it. A pathetic, shivering man, who sat with his legs pulled to his chest. The creature raised his head. His body was bad enough. He looked like a victim of famine - limbs like sticks, swollen knees and knobby elbows, rags for clothes, broken fingernails and toenails. His face was utter desolation. His eyes were sunken and rheumy. It was Demonstar. He still retained the scar on his abdomen. Necropolix couldn't stand to meet his eyes, so he lowered his gaze. Demonstar: I should count myself lucky. The new Osmosian Emperor has graced me with his presence in my lowly prison cell. Necropolix: Dying was the best thing you could have done for my life. It put me on the right path. Perhaps your eternal torture in here could do the same for you. Demonstar: Hmph. Suddenly, they heard an insistent, beseeching sound that made them want to cover their ears: " You should not have come here!" Fred swung in the direction of the noise, seeing the shadow shift above him. He tensed, crouching, his Novatrix ready, offering the smallest target possible. Fred crept forward, still trying to pace the demon lurking in the darkness. He was above, that much was certain. But where? Xhadam emerged from the darkness as a shadowy construct as first, then gradually took a more solid form. Xhadam: Did you think I'd remain ignorant of your presence? You were known to me the moment you entered this realm, such is my reach. Fred: Now I stand before you. What is it you want? Xhadam: The question will be answered when you no longer need to ask it. Why are you here? Fred: You remember Blank? Xhadam: Ah, he came here. A reminder, I suppose, that no alien watch is sufficient. In the end, death overtakes all of you. Even Blank. Xhadam’s eyes eyes looked moist and swollen but somehow excited. Can Darkness look excited? Xhadam envelopped Fred and Necropolix in a thick black fog. The fog dissipated, and they found themselves on a peninsula that jutted out over a pitch-black void. Necropolix: Where is here? Xhadam: Below lies the realm of Chaos, Xhracleb. Here, you are closer to nothingness than any mortal has ever been. Can you not feel it? The void seemed to be pulling at him, leaching the breath from his lungs and the oxygen from his blood. Xhracleb’s voice could be heard from the pitch-black void that had just turned into dark purple, Chaos’ color. Xhracleb: The verge of final death! Where Night meets Chaos! Fred looked at Necropolix and saw ... he couldn’t say it. He looked dead. His skin was sallow, his eye sockets dark and sunken. Fred’s blood moved like sap in his veins. Xhracleb: Back in the Anur System, you only fought against inferior manifestations of our power. Prepare to join your friend! Prepare to die! As he was falling, Fred slammed his hand down on the dial of the Novatrix, but it would not budge. He was not quite sure what he had broken, but, at the moment, he didn't care. Green volts of electricity convulsed down his frame and he writhed in mid-air, howls of agony tearing from his throat. Getting killed by Xhracleb didn't seem like much of an honour. As Fred stared down into the purple abyss of Chaos, he decided he'd much rather die in some less memorable way - maybe falling down the stairs. His body was jolting and even though his throat was already raw from his powerful screams, he still found energy to holler the first name that came to his mind. Fred: Gilded Knight! Gilded Knight! For a brief moment, Fred actually thought his efforts were futile. There was no way the Gilded Knight would know of his summons, that is assuming he could enter Death's Realm at all. Xhracleb stretched out a massive purple hand and might have plucked Fred and Necropolix up like weeds, but the Gilded Knight interrupted in a flash of bright light. Fred and Necropolix immediately stopped their descent into the abyss. Gilded Knight: Begone! You have no right to meddle! The Gilded Knight levelled his golden broadsword at Xhracleb. Xhracleb: Meddle? I am the lord of all creatures of Chaos, puny Knight. I can do as I please. His voice sounded like a backwards recording - as if the words were being sucked into the vortex of Chaos rather than projected. The Gilded Knight roared in defiance. He charged and thrust his sword into the purple gargantuan hand of Chaos. Before it could connect, Xhracleb swatted him aside like he was a pesky insect. Xhracleb: Why do you not disintegrate? You are even weaker than the Demipowers of this realm. Gilded Knight: I choose to be stronger than the Demipowers. The Gilded Knight grinned, which probably would not have been Fred's reaction to this situation. Gilded Knight: Get to Blank. I will deal with Xhracleb. Xhracleb mocked him. Xhracleb: Deal with me? You are only a Near Demipower, a lesser deity! I will make you suffer for your arrogance. And as for your tiny mortal friends… After repeatedly slamming the Novatrix dial, Fred transforms into Halo and snatches up Necropolix. Halo flew forward slicing halo of light, forcing Xhadam to teleport and materialize several feet away. Halo's head was heavy, as the effects of having his strength sapped lingered. He kept flying straight up. A white light had become clearly visible. Entangled like a mesh of tree branches, was a circular gate divided into pieces by a cross. Halo continued to fly toward the gate, pulling a tail of light behind him. He arrived. At last. He put Necropolix down. He thought his mental nerves would burn out, considering the speed he rushed through that final distance. His lapse of awareness was over in an instant. In front of them, they could see a huge setting sun. An infinite sunset sky wrapped around the world. Fred's vision, which had been constricted by the crimson sunset, again widened. His five senses absorbed the colors spreading out before his eyes, the murmuring of the water, and a fragrant scent at that moment, causing a brief dizziness. A thick, soft-looking lawn was thriving here. Flowers of various colors, apparently the source of the scent, were fully bloomed on the lawn. What astonished him further was a small, pure stream. A path snaked up over the inclined ground with abundance of blooming flowers. Fred finds a note scrawled by a young soul: "The fires! The people screaming! I was so scared. Why didn't Lady Hathor protect us? Death says it will be nice here. I miss my family." With trembling hands, Fred crumples up the paper shamefacedly. Having followed the path with his sight, Fred noticed a single tree growing at the crown of the hill. Its glassy, thin trunk also bathed in sunshine and shone, and at its roots, stood Blank. At that moment, Blank quickly lifted his face. Fred gazed right into Blank's eyes and took a deep breath, but, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't control his faltering voice. Fred: I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. As soon as he finished this short line in his hoarse voice, something twinkled at the corner of his old friend's eyes, and tears soon began to roll down one after another. Blank: D-Damn it, Fred. Don't you apologize! Don't you dare apologize now! I won't accept it! Fred: I've seen so many people die, I've got used to it. I just move on. But your death was different. One life lost too many. I'm sorry you had to die too. Blank: Hey, we put up a good fight. I gave everything and lost. I knew you could beat them. I passed the torch to you. Fred: What about Pip? Your brother? Your family? If you won't come back for me, at least come back for them. Blank: They'll be fine. I'm sorry, but I won't be leaving this place with you. Blank led them to an alternative exit than the one they entered in. Necropolix: What is this place called? Blank: It's called the Isles of Heroes. I guess the name pretty much explains it. Steps shook the hillside. A giant was coming, wrapped in shadows, huge and heavy and bent on murder. The massive shape of the giant loomed over him, obscured by layers of black smoke. Fred: It's Carnage. Blank: Believe me, there are worse ways to die down here. Carnage: My first instinct was to kill you. You are not a god, or you would understand. Death is so short, so … unsatisfying. Your puny mortal souls flit off to Death's Domain, and what happens then? The best I can hope for is that you go to the Fields of Punishment, but you heroes are insufferably noble. More likely you will come here to the Isles of Heroes. Why would I want to reward you that way? Why … when I can punish you eternally? Fred: Once more, for old times’ sake? Said Fred with one raised eyebrow. Fred gives Blank the Omnigizer. Blank: Let's do this. Fred clasped Blank's hand as a show of friendship. Fred grinned, twisting the Novatrix dial, and transforming. Transformation sequence: Every bit of his skin and muscle begin burning off, revealing his skeleton. It begins to expand in size and increase in density. The bones float upwards and spin violently as they soar. A thick backbone stabs through its core while its long legs extended towards the underside. Heads sprouted from the top of the ribcage: three of them, and resembling horned animals. Bonesawr: I am ... uh... Bonesawr! He immediately charged forward with a metallic roar, overwhelming the noise caused by his countless clicking joints. Blank followed suit and transformed into Bladimir. Bonesawr rams his whole body into Carnage with bone spikes protruding from him. Carnage took a nick and felt warm blood sluice down his chest; then, grasping hold of a Bonesawr, launched him into the path of Bladimir. Both tumbled, yelling, to the dirt. Bonesawr quickly regains his footing. He compresses his bones which begin to spark up with electricity gradually until he releases the blast at Carnage. It hits and he takes Bonesawr's eletric attack to the neck with the bolt dissipating on impact, not even flinching. Carnage merely toys with Bladimir at the beginning, taking on his attacks without any sign of damage. Bladimir then delivers a powerful kick to Carnage's head, with almost all of his energy converted towards the attack, but he is not affected in the slightest (his head turns only slightly from the attack), leaving Bladimir in a momentary state of shock and disbelief. When Carnage strikes back, the kick he delivers blows Bladimir away, smashing him through a nearby rock formation. Bonesawr switched to Cat-a-pullt, crouched, and snarled, ready for action. He bared his fangs and weaved around Carnage's legs, attacking and dodging to stay out of his clutches. He sprang at Carnage, sinking his claws into Carnage’s thigh. He scrambled up his leg, straight under the Demipower’s armored skirt. Meanwhile, Bladimir crystallized blood around his fingers and thrust his hand into the giant's side, right under his torso. And then from Carnage came a shout of pain, and a flower of blood already began spreading across his body. Cat-a-pullt scurried back down with fangs dripping with blood. Carnage held both Cat-a-pullt and Bladimir. He gripped the them harder. Lifting them like trophies. Squeezing. They hung helpless, shoulders thrown back, chins jutting, jaws working with an agony so intense it refused to allow them even to scream. Fred rarely transformed using this method. He sent out a command to the Novatrix telepathically to initiate a transformation sequence. After the glow of the transformation died out, Carnage was knocked away, leaving him gasping for his breath. Mountain Dust concentrated his entire power into a single punch and pummeled Carnage into a large crater. In one fluid movement Bladimir grasped the giant’s shoulder with his right hand and with his left jammed the point of his blood claws into the back of his neck, slicing between the skull and the first vertebra of the backbone, severing his spine. The Demipower had no time to scream: death was almost instantaneous. Almost. His body jerked and tautened but Bladimir held him firm, feeling his life ebb away as he held him with one finger on his carotid artery. Slowly, the body relaxed and Bladimir allowed it to crumple silently to the ground where it lay, a spreading pool of blood blotted by the grass. Mountain Dust and Bladimir reverted back to normal. Fred: Where'd Necropolix go? Suddenly the two were gripped by an incredible pain. They screamed – and found that they were being raised from the ground, imprisoned by a shimmering cone of bright light. Confused, the looked around themselves, sensing a new change in the atmosphere, a building of pressure he felt in his eardrums, like the moments before a storm. And with a wave of his scythe, Death released them from the imprisoning light. Fred expected to drop, then realized he had never been suspended at all. Death: You have upset the delicate balance of my realm. Fred: What have you done with Necropolix? Death: Your friend has already been expelled from this realm. Blank: You mean you didn't ... Death: Claim his life? Fate gives me specific orders for intruders. For some reason, she has not issued a warrant for his. Perhaps she feels that his life is not finished. Blank: What are you going to do with us? Death: Let's see... How many sins have you committed against me? Oh, that's right, you murdered Famine. And what else? What else?! Ah, and you killed my most capable Demipower, Carnage. Now, it falls to me to collect payment for the pain you have wrought. After that, Death casually extended the scythe in his right hand straight ahead, but it was completely out of range. There was no way it would reach— From the tip of the blade suspended in mid-air, a repulsive dark blue light reached out. Just as that thought flashed through Fred’s mind, the light touched his chest. His consciousness faded away like an extinguished candle. The scythe slowly approached the Splixson, sliding straight under his left arm— yet he merely stood there, blankly watching it all. The scythe was casually swung upward. With a wet, sticky noise, Fred’s thick arm was severed from his body. Death: Splixson, it is a grave sin to befuddle mortal minds with hope of escaping death. For that, you have earned Death everlasting in the abyss! Fred’s eyes slowly moved away from Death, who was approaching him ceaselessly, and fell onto Blank standing slightly away from him. Blank bellowed and sprang forward. Without any plan whatsoever, merely injecting everything he had into his Omnigizer, Blank sprinted forward. Blank: Ku… u… ughh!! Blank somehow managed to suppress his scream, which was about to leak out, into a low moan. Excruciating pain— or rather, it was more like being exposed to a white-hot blowtorch, continuously scorching his abdomen, crushing his senses beyond her limits. Blank: How can this hurt? I’m already dead. The gleaming black scythe that stabbed through his upper left abdomen must have protruded nearly a meter from his back. Death: Only I can make you suffer. Instead of frowning, Blank grinned. The Omnigizer glowed and the Novatrix glowed in response. Omnigizer: Fusion Function Activated. Fred’s body was levitated by mysterious light and thrown towards Blank. Flying sparks dazzled in the air and a flash of light detonated from the two. The light began to transform into thin sequences of digital code. The code began to consolidate and, after a flash of light, became a humanoid silhouette. The result fusion had the same body type and length as Blank but his blue fur had turned into a gleaming black and his black fur had turned white. He donned Fred’s fin-like appendages on his head in addition to Blank’s mask, and Fred’s nodes on his abdomen. His right eye and his left were green and blue respectively. He had the Omnigizer strapped to his chest constantly alternating between green and blue. With a shout, he infused strength into his left hand, gripping the scythe that pierced his body. With a deafening crack, the scythe nearly five centimeters in diameter snapped in two in his fist. He then reached behind himself, grabbed the protruding edge of the scythe, and wrenched it out. Sparks danced before his eyes, and a shocking pain like lightning ran from his fingertips to his toes. Yet the fusion’s hand did not cease, pulling out the scythe with an almost violent movement and flinging it to the ground. A frightening amount of blood gushed from both his mouth and the gaping wound in his abdomen, but his body remained unswervingly upright. He wiped away the blood at the corner of his mouth, and looked up at the enemy with fire in his eyes. The hulking owner of the scythe blinked rapidly inside his cowl, his eyes revealing confusion. The fusion reaches his right arm for the Omnigizer, rotates the rim, then slams the faceplate. Its countless roots were writhing about as it used them to move. Vines, with pointed leaves attached, twined about at its side and it had a «mouth» for close to where its head should be, dribbling a viscous liquid as it snapped open and shut. An amalgamation of Busholdier and Sea Weed. The fusion (Busholdier+Sea Weed) raises its two vines up high threateningly. And with a howl spilling out from its prey-trapping mechanism of a mouth, it thrust its right vine towards Death. Reading its trajectory in an instant, Death moved slightly to the left to dodge it. Turning towards its side in the same motion, Death drove his broken scythe into the part joining the pitcher portion and its thick stalk. Letting out a voice of anger once again, the plant inflated its pitcher. The preparation motion for the firing of the corrosive fluids. A pale green fluid shot out in a spray, forming a white vapor as it fell onto the ground. But having avoided getting even a single drop showered on him, Death dealt a hard blow at the same weak point once again. As a groan sounded out, the pitcher portion was sliced from the stalk, flying off into mid-air by itself. The transformation timed out, shivers still assailed Blank/Fred, like goose bumps rising over his entire body. Death: Know that you have earned my enmity... for the rest of eternity... Death lifted his scythe high. Lost souls began to fill the Reaper and his scythe providing all their spiritual power unto his will. The Fusion sensed the surging power in Death, created many reflections of himself, surrounding and confusing the enemy. He swings his scythe down with both arms slicing through four imposter fusions, revealing the true fusion behind Death. Suddenly, Death’s eyes shifted focus to Fusion’s face. Something was reflected in his watery iris. — Light. Milky white, radiant particles descended, slowly, gently, softly, like snow. The fusion quickly grips the dial and transformed. A small silhouette floated there— and yet its presence was ludicrously huge. He wore a breastplate and dual shoulder guards gleaming with a shine akin to that of a pearl. His gauntlets and boots were of the same sheen. It was a pale yellow humanoid with four pairs of silvery wings, two halo rings on each forearm, a third eye on its forehead, and two gems on its hands. He also possessed a larger halo around his head. Fusion: Pure of heart and awakened by fury, I am Halo-Neos! Coursing over Death’s Realm, Halo-Neos and Death trade blows, barraging each other with the elements they command. From the halo around his head, Halo-Neos fires a barrage of energy blades that strike Death and burst in a destructive explosion. Death, however, emerged unscathed. Halo-Neos, floating in the air, stretched out his right arm. He gently swept his delicate hand across. Laa ———————– Resembling a chorus of thousands of angels, an overpowering harmony shook the world. Spectrums of polychromatic light swallowed Death. The ground beneath Death’s robe vanished. As he fell into the infinite darkness, Death thrust both hands upwards, trying to grab onto the tiny silhouette. From the sky, variegated rays of colour had poured down with a grandiose harmony, and as they touched the ground, it began to fracture. Death thrust out of the ground, slashing with his scythe. Then, as Halo-Neos defended, he adjusted the attack to a jab. Halo-Neos was forced to his toes, his arm bent to deflect Death’s offensive. The move left him off balance and, with the guard on his left side down, Death saw his chance and came in with a second quick swipe that met its mark. Halo-Neos winced, feeling the wound on his hip leak blood, but dared not look. He couldn’t take his eyes from Death for one second. Opposite him, Death smiled. A smile that said he had taught the young pup a lesson. He stepped to his side, then feigned an attack, going first one way then the other, hoping to catch Halo-Neos off guard. Fighting pain and fatigue, Halo-Neos came forward with an offensive of his own – taking Death by surprise, he was pleased to see. But though he made contact – he thought he made contact – Death seemed to slide away as though teleporting. Halo-Neos was too slow to react in time, feeling Death’s scythe slash his arm and crying out with the pain. He couldn’t take much more of this. He was too tired. He was losing blood. It was as though the energy was being slowly drained from him. The fusion, his wounds, his exhaustion: all were combining slowly but surely to cripple him. If he couldn’t turn the battle soon he faced defeat. Then Halo-Neos let out a corona of light that spread outwards, slowly spinning and radiating warm, golden light. He was entranced by it. Enchanted. He saw, with strange symbols – writing he didn’t understand. The glow turned into an incandescence that gave no heat but was as bright as the sun. Even Death dared not look up from the peak of his cowl. Halo-Neos pressed his lips in concentration. He continued to project his will through his light, he had to judge the moment to cease. When he did so, a wave of exhaustion hit him, and the light, with no afterglow, went dead. Cautiously, Death lifted his hood and saw that Halo-Neos had disappeared. Back in the G.P. Brisk II, Halo-Neos emerges from the Doors of Death, battle worn and exhausted. He musters up his remaining strength and fires a beam, destroying the doors to Death’s Realm. There was a mighty flash of light and Halo-Neos collapsed, crying out in pain, as curious thin beams of translucent light, smoke-like in the way they curled, emerged from his body and travelled into the glowing Omnigizer on his chest, reverting Fred and Blank to their fused state, then back into their respective bodies. The right arm was missing from Fred’s emaciated body. His face stared downwards, and his eyes were empty; both trembled in tiny spasms. His left arm stiffened, and tendons puffed up on his neck. Two tracks of tears slid down his bowed face and dropped onto the Novatrix on his arm. A broken, hoarse voice slid from his parched lips. Fred: We made it. Blank’s brother kneeled and frantically hugged Blank. He kept exerting more force into his arms. Now Fred felt safer, he also felt more vulnerable. The events since he had set out to Death’s Realm were catching up with him. Despite himself he felt close to tears. But he collected himself. Blank’s brother let go of Blank, realizing that he was holding him too tightly, hurting him. Fade to credits...